Crazy Little Thing Called Love
by elliemars
Summary: Another set of 10 ficlets inspired by songs. Seifer/Zell, rated from PG to R.


**1. Through With You - Maroon 5 / time - 3:01 / word count - 248**

"What are you doing?" Seifer asked, sitting lazily up in the bed, a sheet clinging thinly to his hips. Zell, from the other side of the room, spared him a cursory glance over his shoulder as he went on searching.

"What does it look like?" he said coolly, kicking aside piles of junk with his foot - clothes spilled from the hamper he had tripped over in the dark last night, a stack of books knocked from the shelf he had shoved the other man against, a small mountain of crushed beer cans interspersed with the occasional sticky, half-full bottle of whiskey or scotch - and he bent over slowly, his sore back screaming at him, to rescue his tee-shirt from underneath the overturned trash bin. "I'm goin'."

"Obviously," Seifer replied, a slight sneer gracing his otherwise smug and contented expression. He stretched his arms wide, the grayish light of dawn peeking through the gap in the curtains highlighting the purple and red rings of bruising dotted across his torso. He grinned, reaching down to the floor next to the bed. "You'll probably be wanting these," he said cheekily, tossing a pair of black boxer shorts across the room, and Zell went red.

"Fuck you!"

"See you tonight then?" Seifer inquired cockily.

"You sure as hell won't!" Zell hissed, stuffing the shorts down his pocket and then storming out of the room, leaving Seifer laughing to himself; it had been a few weeks since he'd heard that line.

**2. Fire Cracker - Ellegarden / time - 3:15 / word count - 152**

"What's wrong with you today, Seifer? You're usually much quicker on your feet."

Seifer grimaced, hauling himself up from the dirt and turning the other way so the instructor wouldn't see him clutching at his ribs. That damned martial artist had probably broken one; it would be just Seifer's luck. He could deal with a bit of bruising, but as he twisted around there was an unpleasant grinding feeling in his chest and a fresh spark of agony, and his pained expression didn't go unnoticed this time.

"Are you injured?" the instructor asked, looking at him suspiciously. Seifer shrugged away from the hand he held out in assistance, snatching up his gunblade from the floor and turning away.

"Nothing to worry about. A T-rexaur got the jump on me this morning," he offered by way of explanation, giving a smirk which clearly confused the teacher. "But I'll get him back later."

**3. Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner - Warren Zevon / time - 3:49 / word count - 238**

The boy was a bloody genius with that Pandemona card, there way no denying that. Seifer sighed as he handed over his last Tiamat, and Zell grinned.

"Another round?" he said, smiling happily. "I'm lookin' to fill out my set of level 7's," he added cheekily.

Seifer rolled his eyes, but he cleared the table and began to shuffle through his cards again. "Whatever makes you happy," he said sarcastically, and Zell did a cheery little sort of shuffle in his seat, tucking his newly-won card into his deck and then selecting his five favorites once more, graciously offering Seifer the first move. He rolled his eyes but placed his first card down, and waited as Zell painstakingly thought over his move. He stared with tired eyes at the back of the clock on the table across the room which he'd turned around hours ago, and at the dark curtains on the window, obscuring the outside world, and he wondered if it was morning yet - if Zell was exhausted enough to sleep without dreaming, without waking every hour sweating and gasping for breath, the sound of screaming and the smell of blood still as fresh in his head as it had been just days ago when they'd finally escaped it, crawling over the dead and destroyed bodies of their comrades to the escape boat and taking off as fast as they could, just not fast enough.

**4. Say Anything - X Japan / time - 8:38 / word count - 334**

"What?" Seifer spat, his eyes narrowed menacingly. Zell shrugged, looking straight ahead.

"Nothing," he muttered. Seifer nodded.

"Damn right, nothing."

Zell bit his lip, keeping his eyes focused anywhere but at the other boy as the truck climbed its way jerkily up the side of the mountain, the eight other cadets sitting in the back with them bouncing in their seats as they ascended. He looked across the aisle and shot a deadly glare at Boris, who at least had the gall to look sheepish, though personally Zell thought he deserved a lot more than that for making him have to sit next to Seifer the whole trip. As if the gunblader on his own wasn't enough to have to deal with, but there was also the _incident_ - no, Zell had sworn to himself he wasn't going to think about that.

"What are you looking at?!" Seifer hissed again, startling Zell out of his thoughts long enough to realize that he'd been staring again.

"Nothing!" he said defensively.

"Then fucking quit staring," Seifer growled.

Zell waited until his head was turned to make a face, grumbling under his breath. Partnering with Seifer was weird enough even under the most normal of circumstances, but now - well, there was no reason to believe it was true; just a rumor. Just because Stella had told Carrie that Goran had overheard Raijin whispering to Fuujin that Seifer's roommate had told him he'd heard Seifer moaning Zell's name at night didn't make it true, no, not at all. But it _was_ weird.

"Dincht," Seifer said warningly, and Zell jumped in his seat.

"What?"

"If I have to tell you one more time to stop watching me, we're going to have to ship out a new martial arts specialist," Seifer said in a quiet but deadly tone.

Zell nodded, and whined quietly in the back of his throat. This was going to be the worst field trip ever.

**5. The Gallow is God - The Distillers / time - 4:35 / word count - 260**

As if a fractured ulna, four dislocated fingers, a bruised kidney, a split lip, and a black eye - one _hell_ of a black eye, in fact; Seifer really hadn't lost his touch - weren't all punishment enough, but now he was stuck in bloody detention! Seventeen words into an essay on how fighting with his fellow cadets was not permitted unless in a controlled educational situation, Zell had given up on being able to write with his crippled hand, and instead was daydreaming about how much of a pulp he was going to beat Seifer into once he was healed - and once the other boy was let out of solitary confinement, of course. Zell supposed he had gotten off easy; Seifer'd had a cracked sternum _and_ he'd hit his head hard enough to knock him out when he finally went down, and still he'd gotten worse off in the way of punishment - but as often as he liked to start fights, it wasn't surprising that all the teachers were prejudiced against him.

Three days later, when the Cures had done their job and Seifer was let out, they met again in the dark back corner of the training center, Seifer smirking, gunblade at his waist, Zell's fists cocked and ready. And in the early hours of the following morning, as Zell watched the other man sneak out of bed and limp out of the room back to his own dorm, he considered his revenge complete, and smiled to himself.

**6. Black Tangled Heart - Silverchair / time - 4:33 / word count - 372**

Seifer awoke slowly, feeling groggy and knowing without even opening his eyes that it was still too early. The other side of the bed was cold, which meant that Zell was no longer in it, a fact which the rummaging sound coming from the other side of the room confirmed. Seifer didn't stir, picturing the other man in his head; he'd be looking for something to wear - he certainly could no longer wear the shirt Seifer had ripped off him last night - maybe pulling one of Seifer's old tee-shirts that he hardly ever wore, it'd be a bit roomy on Zell, but it was cute. Of course, he preferred Zell naked, but regrettably that wasn't always an option.

He feigned sleep, trying to figure out just by listening what Zell was doing. Maybe getting ready to go into the kitchen and whip up some breakfast; Seifer had heard the other man was an excellent cook, although Zell had never yet graced him with the product of his supposed genius. Still, today might be the day. Seifer liked a simple breakfast; too much food didn't sit well with him early in the morning - toast with butter and eggs, potatoes, maybe some bacon, but he didn't think he actually had any in the place, since it was such a hassle to cook and he didn't usually bother to himself. And some coffee, black and strong - Seifer didn't know if Zell preferred coffee or tea, but he was pretty sure he had both, so it wasn't a problem.

Breakfast in bed, he hadn't had that for a very long time, and with Zell tucked at his side, what morning could be better? And naturally, after they were finished eating, a bit more of what they'd spent all of last night doing - needless to say, breakfast was not at the top of the list of things Seifer liked to have in his bed. He couldn't think of a better way to start out the day.

But when he finally opened his eyes, he only saw Zell's back as he sneaked out the door, the same thing he'd done every morning after spending the night. _Well, maybe tomorrow,_ Seifer thought.

**7. People Got a Lotta Nerve - Neko Case / time - 4:31 / word count - 215**

"Why so surprised, Dincht?" Seifer breathed lowly, his expression all piercing eyes and sharp teeth as he leaned closer, pressing Zell against the wall, the foliage thick enough to hide them from the dozen or so cadets training just on the other side of the path, but Zell still peered nervously over the other man's shoulder. Seifer laughed. "No one can see, Dincht. Trust me."

"What do you think you're doing?" Zell hissed, hoping he couldn't be heard; he couldn't be caught being pinned in a corner by Seifer Almasy, of all people, his image would be ruined! At least, that's what Zell kept repeating to himself in his mind was the reason he didn't want anyone stumbling into their little corner; although Seifer must have noticed that he wasn't doing much to fight his way out of it.

"Why don't you tell me? You're the one who dragged me back here," Seifer purred, and Zell flushed scarlet. Oh, yeah, he had done that - _why_ had he done that? His head felt like an overinflated balloon, and then Seifer grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him into a snarling, savage kiss, and, oh, _right_, that's why he'd done that.

**8. Again - Oblivion Dust / time - 5:27 / word count - 259**

"Fuck," Zell groaned, throwing his head to the side, and his breath fogged the glass of the window he was being held against. "Ahh, Seifer. You... fuck!"

"This works a lot better for me if you shut up," Seifer snapped, but he was grinning, his cheeks pink, face sheened with sweat, as he moved, his palm squeaking against the glass. He tightened his hold on Zell's waist, and Zell, in turn, dug his fingernails hard into Seifer's shoulder as the other man fucked him against the glass.

"Not in this lifetime, shithead."

"Someday, twerp," Seifer said breathily, his lips pressed to Zell's damp neck, "I'm gonna make SeeD, and no amount of junctioning on earth is going to keep you from being Silenced."

"I'd love to see you try it, Almasy," Zell panted, but the rest of the statement was cut short by the sudden presence of Seifer's hand between his legs, strong, rough fingers curling abruptly around his erection. Seifer grinned and squeezed, and Zell let out a series of short, breathless gasps, eyes crammed shut, his entire face screwed up in concentration. He was grimacing; he always made that face when he was about to come, but somehow Seifer had come to find it endearing.

"A gag would work just as well, I suppose."

"If you think you can get one on me," Zell retorted, flashing a smirk of his own, and Seifer leaned in to capture those lips in a kiss, nipping at Zell's wet lips.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure we could have fun trying..."

**9. Jet Pack - Eve 6 / time - 3:33 / word count - 178**

The silence was more than awkward; it was stifling, and Seifer was wondering to himself for the nth time why it had to be _now_ that Zell suddenly lost his ability to endlessly, exasperatingly chatter through any situation, now, when they were stuck on a bloody rock in the middle of the ocean together, when it would be two hours minimum until Squall could get the Ragnarok out there to pick them up, now, when Seifer would have given his left arm to turn Zell back into the happily nattering, infinitely obnoxious little pest he used to be.

Used to be, that is, until Seifer did something inconceivably stupid like confessing to him.

Although, admittedly, if he'd known that the way to shut Zell up for good was as simple as showing some romantic interest in the boy, he might have done it years ago, just for some peace and quiet.

Fifty feet away, Zell stood silently and stared out at the ocean; Seifer sighed, checking his watch for the thirtieth time.

**10. Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen / time - 2:43 / word count - 170**

"You're kind of a bastard, you know," Zell said, sitting at the end of the bed and wiggling into his trousers.

Seifer grinned smugly. "Yes, I am."

"Way too fuckin' arrogant," Zell went on, pausing thoughtfully as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Perhaps."

"You're a good fuck, but you ain't the best I ever had," he added next, shoving his feet into scuffed trainers and then standing, turning around to look down at Seifer lounging on the bed, leisurely smoking a cigarette. He flashed his trademark smirk up at Zell, his face the very picture of triumph.

"And yet you keep coming back," he remarked, his expression knowing. Zell rolled his eyes, and Seifer continued, "I suppose it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you love me."

"Keep dreaming," Zell scoffed. "You're just lucky I'm a masochist."

"I'll say," Seifer replied, leaning up as Zell walked around the side of the bed to steal a kiss. "See you tonight?"

"Count on it," Zell answered, smiling.


End file.
